Mother's Milk
by Sakurazukamori6
Summary: A two part response to episode 40. Kurogane thinks about his mother and ponders on those that remind him of her. KuroFai.
1. A Mother's Curse

He loved his mother. She was the embodiment of all that was pure and good and beautiful and faithful in his world. These words are now all an abstraction. He cannot physically define them, cannot hold them up to light and see their substance, measure their weight and feel their shape. 

He cannot do these things, because these words are nothing but words, words that have come to fade with memory and time. He no longer recognizes such words in the times that he has lived through. No longer has a precise definition for such things. No longer has a person who makes these clandestine words solid and immediate where he knows his heart is pounding and he would do anything in the world to keep it that way.

He loves his mother.

She had died in his arms. Her already fragile body made even more fragile as blood seeped through her snow colored robes and flowed onto the black lacquered floors of the prayer room.

The dark hand of the devil slinking back into the recesses and drawing his bloodied weapon with him, until all that was left was the mirror and the reflected image of a corpse.

She had not clung to life like he had clung to her. He wished she would have fought off the paleness in her cheeks, the dimness in her once doe-like brown eyes, tried to gather up all that black, glossy hair, the strands that father had loved so dearly, and held it close and kept the warmth from draining from her body.

But she had not fought, had only selflessly cupped his cheek and whispered words of longing and regret and cried miserable tears.

_"I could not protect Suwa…you…"_

She had been a stubborn woman, who did not understand that she needed the protection of men to survive. She had prayed up to the last stretch, piously and with all the religious, sad zeal of a martyr.

He had watched her die and he had sobbed and cried and he knew, at that moment, deep within the puddles of his heart, that after this, he would not be able to properly mourn her. That this was his last chance to cling to desperate emotion, and so he wailed, and he bawled, and he clutched onto her robes, crusted and dried over with blood, screaming hoarsely until he sounded just as pathetic as how he felt.

It was the last time he had ever cried. Afterwards when he had clutched Ginryu in his hand, watched the silver scales on the hilt reflect the moonlight and somehow make the orb in the sky pale in comparison, he knew that tears would never come to him again.

The muscle in his chest had stopped beating, had lulled to a hollow thrum. And the sound of it had cut his childhood away, frayed his lifespan by the edges and blurred those memories of him running around carelessly throughout his home, weaving in and out of rooms and always somehow ending up in his mother's arms at the end of the day.

**………**

He has come across people that remind him of his mother. He has seen faint traces of her in Tomoyo's stubborn and defiant nature. In the way she carries herself, her clothing, her hair that matches night and all that encompasses it.

He feels a bond to her. She had been the one to put his mother to final rest, to close her eyes against the ruins of everything she had held dear. Even the gods had not given his mother such ceremony. They had only left her to whither away in the grave of Suwa, with him as the gravedigger and their mocking quiet tilling the cold earth beneath them.

He wonders why the heavenly dragons had abandoned his mother in her time of need?

Why had they let her die like a dog? Why had they taken his father away and turned him into the dust that skirted the winds?

Why had they taken away every single thing that he had held dear in his heart?

He curses Suwa and its existence.

The moon crescent is no longer white with purity, like the body of his mother, but buried underneath layers of dirt and sharp rocks and enough blood to drown in.

He hated his weakness at the time.

He hated his mortality.

He hated his heart.

He hated that sword and the shadow of it that had been carved into his hand, like the dragon tattoo winding up his father's arm, proud and fiery black. It was the last thing he had seen of his father. Swallowed up by the fiends of his past, crows that had scavenged and turned his village into rubbles and chaos.

**………**

When Fai teases him, he's reminded of his mother. He's reminded of those times when she would smile at his father, when she would bow her head and gaze at his father through impossibly, dark lashes while he stroked a finger along a black strand of her hair. He's touched Fai's hair before, once, accidentally. It's soft and fine, and the color is like a rebellion of everything that he has stood for in his inconspicuous life. He feels the residual touch of it sometimes on his fingertips, when he's just laid down for the night, waiting for sleep to take over and he's rubbing his fingers together and wondering why that action is keeping him wide awake.

He thinks he's going crazy sometimes.

And then he's unfairly reminded of a time when he would catch his parents gazing at each from across a room. How they almost seemed like they were having a conversation with each other that no one else was privy to. Even him, their own son had no chance of decrypting such things. He's seen that stare on Fai's face before, seen it and wanted it more than he's wanted anything in his entire life. It's frightening and he ends up being angered with himself, because after all these years, he's still clueless as to the meaning behind such a thing.

He remembers how fragile and lovely his mother looked when she would reach her hands out to him, and he's seen that gesture in Fai. A sweeping, encompassing gesture that almost seems like a hug, without the act of arms wrapping around his back or breath on his neck.

He doesn't understand it.

He's reminded of his mother's cursed fate when he sees Fai out on a balcony one night, gazing up at the stars like his mother used to and looking utterly troubled for all the show he had put on the day before.

Fai's good at hiding his pain, just like his mother, but he can see it, clearly and defined by the shiver of eyelashes, or the tremble of lips that hadn't meant to be overwhelmed by a situation that had hit too close to heart and home that day.

Fai's troubled. He's cursed, like Suwa. He's running.

In that respect Fai doesn't remind him of his mother anymore, because his mother had awaited her death and had done nothing to stop it.

He is glad that Fai runs.

He does not need an answer to the conundrum of Fai's past. Not right now. Not like this, when they're both cursed and running, and they feel safe in the fact that no one knows their secrets and they can forget that they're running in the first place.

He doesn't ever want to set foot on Suwa soil again.

Fai always says that he wants to keep moving on, that he doesn't want to stay in the same place for too long a time. But that it is best to run headlong into nothingness than retreat back into darkness.

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****A/n:** I hope somebody garnered some enjoyment from this and if you did, please leave a review, which is much appreciated. Next chapter will be the last. You may have to look for it in the M' category, as it will be there for obvious reasons. 


	2. Come Home

**A/n:** I switched the last section of the first chapter to the second, because I thought it didn't fit in with the first chapter and also how abrupt it cut off. Tsubasa seems like something that's really light-hearted and cheerful, especially in respects to Kurogane and Fai's purpose on the show, which is kind of like the comical relief. This story however portrays a somewhat darker, more introspective side. There's also some weirdness with present and past tense here, as I thought it would be appropriate to switch. There's a purpose for it. I guess that's all I'll say.

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"Kuro-popo." Fai smiles at him, slow and catlike and with all the appeal of a cliff to the suicidal. And he just can't help but want to take that plunge. 

He feels annoyed that Fai can tease him like this, and not understand that it riles him up and makes his blood beat faster and travel in the other direction. Opposite of what it's used to, but wholly disregarding it by the choice that this change feels good.

Fai sits next to him, looks in the other direction, pretending to ignore him while he minimally scoots closer.

"What?" He asks and he's a little less irritated when the blond turns in his direction, hands under his chin and lips pursed and eyes milk blue in the moonlight.

Fai looks like the devil himself.

"Ne Kuro-tan?"

"What?" He can sit here and not answer the blond, but something within him just doesn't understand that logic. When Fai talks, he answers. When Fai listens, he talks. That's just how it's been between the two of them.

"Nothing." The blond answers mysteriously, and the laughter in his voice sounds sweeter and more melodic than any wind chime he's ever heard cajoled by the breeze.

He breaths in, _loudly_, so the other can hear it and understand that he's annoyed.

"Hmm?" Fai hums curiously, like he doesn't know what to do with himself and all the tricks he's stored away in his smile. He scoots a little closer to Kurogane.

They sit there and stare at stars that aren't bright enough to really stare at, or even give the time of day to. It's dark and a little cold, and the moon is the swipe of a sword in the sky as the light from it barely reaches the wooden porch.

And what little light reaches them seems to be drawn into Fai's vast eyes. They're strangely glowing, creamy like a certain side of the moon and blue like water poured over stone.

Fai suddenly leans into him and he flinches back.

They stare at each other for that second, with Fai's spine curved inward, and his away so he's hunching and tense.

Fai backs up slowly, so he's no longer intruding in on his personal space.

It's awkward after that.

Fai brushes some hair from his face and his mouth doesn't look as sure as it usually does, carrying that smirk and ready with a tease on his small, pink tongue.

It's terribly awkward after that, and they're pretending to look at the almost starless sky and not each other. He gives Fai a sidelong glance and feels infinitely stupid for having freaked out the way he did.

**………**

It's three weeks and six days after that encounter, and Kurogane waits like a starved man for a chance to explain himself. He doesn't know what he'll be owning up to when he gets the chance, but he feels he must correct something between them.

"Kuro-rin." He hears Fai call out to him when he passes by the room he's staying in, and he can't help--like many things concerned with Fai--but be stopped in his tracks by that voice. He back peddles slowly and ends up in front of Fai's bedroom door. A second later he's made it past the threshold, but the only movement that catches his eyes are the fluttering curtains tousled by the open window.

He hears feet pitter patter behind him.

"Behind you." He doesn't dare turn around, because Fai is playing with him right now, and if he turns around, he'll be met with the same peach-colored corridor, but now framed by the open bedroom door.

He walks over to the bed, something that smells like apples and autumn leaves, and he seats himself on the comforter. Fai is now standing in front of him with a smirk on his face and a cotton scarf in his hand.

It's autumn in this new town. There's a basket of green apples on the windowsill, and the curtains are cotton and have horizontal and vertical red and white bands checkering them. The air is warm and the electrical fan in the corner is humming pleasantly.

He hears the door close.

"You look like I stole something from you." Fai approaches, somewhat seriously, somewhat wryly. When he sits beside him his weight doesn't make the bed dip, like sitting next to Kurogane is an illusion of a man.

Kurogane breathes in heavily when he feels fingertips on his wrist, trailing up his forearm and curling around his bicep.

"Did I?" Fai's teasing him again, like that night three weeks and six days ago. Kurogane wants to answer that he stole his sanity, that he stole some of his pride and his loneliness away, but he figures it would be useless to bicker with him.

He takes his larger palm and clamps it around the curious hand, the fingers having been kneading into the crook of his elbow, the skin there the only soft thing on his arm.

Fai smiles like a cat. Kurogane knows he's just messing with him, trying to get a reaction--most likely volatile--out of him, and he wants to feel okay with that. Fai teases him. Fai teases everyone. He teases him because he thinks he's too serious for his own good, he teases him because how he shouts, and he teases him because he comes off as too macho.

The hand slides past his grip and up his arm, his slender fingers stubbornly around his bicep and squeezing the muscle underneath. Fai's massaging into the tough and hard skin there, and Kurogane can't help but clench his other hand in helpless reaction to the blond's touch.

Fai's smile widens, and he pulls off not showing any teeth, even though his smile is widening and widening. Slowly and sensually, like the hand and fingers moving on his arm and up his shoulder. His fingers spread like a flower on the nape of his neck, and then he's firmly rubbing into the tendons there and making Kurogane swallow harshly, as he tries not to pant at the deep touch working into the first vertebrae on his spine.

Another hand is coming around, patting him on the shoulder almost like it feels sorry for him. It squeezes his shoulder blade and then both hands, thin and small and surprising strong, are working into the back of his neck. He shudders deeply and lets himself be climbed on top of, the blonde's knees now on either side of him as Fai meticulously presses his fingertips and the edge of his fingernails into the muscle of his back.

There's been extra tension in his frame, ever since those weeks ago, and on top of his already strained and taunt personality he's not surprised at how rigid he is. Fai's digging into the muscles at his nape and Kurogane just wants him to press down as hard as he possibly can so he can get more of that touch.

He feels warm, his shirt is sticking to his back and there's a sudden impetus to take it off. Fai slides his hands down his chest and begins to unbutton the simple shirt he's wearing, the touch of his hands reconnecting and the greater sensation of warmth coursing through his shoulder blades without the barrier of cloth. He rolls out of his shirt and Fai ends up on his side, as Kurogane comes away from the sleeves and braces both hands down on the mattress to the side of him, effectively caging in the smaller man.

Fai's hands come back up, wrap around his neck, and continue to massage the skin until Kurogane's arms shaking from the pure overload of tactile sensory, tries to fight gravity, which is gradually pulling him down to the bed and on top of the slighter man. He doesn't mean to crush him, but Fai's palms are so smooth and warm and he's surrendering to that touch because it seems like the only thing he can do, or wants to do for that matter.

He groans, and Fai's palm cups the back of his too warm neck and pets the small, short hairs at his nape, smoothing them down even further while the other hand rubs a circle on his naked back.

He has a full erection, jammed up on the inside of Fai's upper thigh. His face is tucked in the warm area on the side of his throat, breathing in the scent of soap and the clean cotton of his shirt. He jerks involuntarily when Fai moves his leg against his cock, the easy slide making him throb and clench his hands harder, until his fingernails are biting into the skin of his palm. Small crescents that are lined by red break the surface of his calloused palm. The sting reminding him that he has a bad habit of clenching his hands to point where it leaves scabs and dry skin. His hands aren't something that he thinks should be allowed to touch another human being, especially a being like Fai, who's fair skin and softness make him seem all the more crass and boorish. He was always wary of Fai's prettiness. He's always believed men should be strong, and firm, and built like the morals that uphold them. Fai's prettiness seems like something that is excess, something that is overindulgence and decadent. Fai's prettiness makes men weak, makes them drop their guard and to Kurogane, who has always been a man to battle his enemy face to face, it almost seems like Fai is cheating. Like he's setting a trap for you with that pretty face and the sweetness of his mouth, the artful deceit of his smile reinforcing that idea of falsehood. The siren on the rocks, the pretty petals of a poisonous flower, the beautiful glacier underfoot that becomes thinner and thinner the further you walk, until it shatters and sends you to an icy grave.

His lips fumble along Fai's collarbone, over the hollow place at the base of his throat, up his neck, over his jaw and then he finally presses his dry lips to Fai's moist ones. He's has a little experience with this part of touching someone, but it had been a long time ago and she'd been just as clumsy as him. It wasn't love, but then sex didn't mean love. He knows that much. Fai's touch was affectionate, and slow, and searching, and beautiful but it was not love. It was friendship.

It was easy acceptance and an important connection with another human being.

Fai opened his mouth and Kurogane was licking his open lips. He knew he should press down, connect their searing mouths and kiss him properly, but he couldn't stop licking him. Fai's tongue brushed up against his own, and it sent a shock of pleasure through his stomach and down into his groin. Fai was opening up his pants, pulling them down with his underwear and throwing them off the bed. His pale, thin legs rubbing up against Kurogane's sides, the inside of his thighs soft and warm like his palm.

Fai looked up at him, the thin sunlight coming in through the window making his eyelashes saffron, his blue eyes, clear as ice shining through that golden, dusty haze.

Fai mouthed something at him and smiled that same deceptive, man-eater smile. He did it again, and Kurogane getting the message began to anxiously unbutton his shirt, his fingers shaking with anticipation and the telltale signs of embarrassment at his impatience. He slid the blond out of his shirt and Fai immediately began to work on unbuckling Kurogane pants. He moved the waist down his hips and Kurogane had to hold in an explicative when the fabric brushed over his aching cock.

A patch of sun, like it was a part of the quilt lit the head of the bed, and Kurogane sliding an arm all the way around the small of Fai's back pulled the blond to the top of the bed, the patch of sunlight now centering on a pale, sharp shoulder blade and some wisps of hair now made even more golden by the autumn sun.

"You're tense." Fai said, not teasing him. He was looking off to the left of Kurogane, his fingers coiled in the black hair that was long in the front. He swirled a single, pale finger there, like he was playing on the surface of a pond. Then his fingers left Kurogane's face. Mapped down his neck, his shoulder, his chest, his arms, and then back to his face again, like those hands never had a set course, only an impetus to move, and feel, and touch.

Fai had a way of speaking a double language. It was hard for Kurogane to figure it out most of the time, but he was there, somewhere, along the translation border. He understood what it meant when Fai said he was tense. It was something more to be expressed, something more to be dug up. He was tense for a reason. He was tense because of Fai, and sadness, and a bit of loneliness. He was tense because he wasn't allowed to kill a man who wronged him and wasn't allowed to return to his home.

There were so many reasons for that tenseness, and Fai with that solemn, sad, soft expression was able to convey it all. He liked Fai a lot because of that look. Fai was made beautiful because of that look, not because of genetic aesthetics, but because Fai for that one shared second understood him more than anyone.

He liked Fai. Maybe somewhere along the line, he could say he loved Fai too, like he loved his pride and his sword hand. It was a strange thing to compare to a human being, but it was the only love he had ever known.

_That and his mother's love._

Fai kissed him on the temple, like ashes fluttering from an urn, and he closed his eyes and waited for the permission to release that tenseness. Fai was offering him many things right now; respite and rest were some of them, sanity and closure were something else.

Fai opened his legs; long, pale limbs that wrapped around his back and eased him down on top of him. Fai regarded him for a second longer, before he closed his eyes in one great shiver and turned his head to the side, so he wouldn't see the look in Kurogane's eyes, the look that wanted to devour everything in sight and simply forget.

Kurogane wasn't a gentle person, never made a pretense to be that way; battles had hardened his heart to sensitivity and delicateness. He didn't like to associate himself with frailness; he'd broken himself a long time ago of having that romantic warrior sense of protecting all those weaker than him. He hated weakness.

Fai might be smaller than him, and might have a different pattern to his step than him, but he was still plenty tough and so Kurogane wasn't worried about hurting and breaking. Fai didn't want him to treat him like that and truthfully didn't expect it of him.

They knew each other pretty well.

So when he grabbed his legs and pushed himself inside Fai's body, it wasn't without pain, but it wasn't with surprise and feelings of stale hurt. They weren't children after all and they didn't feel betrayed easily.

Kurogane sunk in and braced his hands against the firm mattress under him, his mouth latching onto Fai's throat as he tried to orient himself inside the firm pressure clamped around him. Fai's hands were suddenly sliding over the sides of his face and covering his ears, so that all the sounds the blond was making was muffled behind the pane of his thin fingers.

Kurogane rocked forward and Fai's pinky fingers pressed into either side of his cheek, his mouth breathing hot and rasping against the throat under him as he lost himself in that slow and heated hold on him, rocking harder into it. He was leaking inside the blond and he wondered distractedly if Fai would want him coming inside of him like this. He'd make a mess and he wouldn't pull out until he finished. The sounds of Fai's labored breathing was muffled and sounded far away, the desperate tinge to it slightly covered by the warm palms over his ears.

He slammed into Fai with a horse groan and after that, it was nothing but forceful thrusting as he tried to work his release out of the body under him. Fai came first, against his stomach and the sheets, his legs lifting and spreading even further out, forcing Kurogane to change his angle. It brought more pressure on his cock and Kurogane with another incoherent grunt and a curse came inside the blond. He watched the joining of their bodies perversely and didn't care how much this physical act of completion violated the blond and his strange purity, because he needed the release and the hands around his shoulders.

Everything was strangely loud after now that Fai's hands weren't cupping his ears. His face still mashed up against Fai's throat and right under the side of his chin. He could clearly hear their breathing in the sunlit room, could even hear the wind and a faraway swallow chirping in chopped up chorus.

Fai whispered words to him, and even though he could hear the wind and their breathing, he hadn't heard those. Fai's hand was back on his head, petting his hair down, and he had ended up slumping helplessly on top of the blonde's thin chest, his eyes closing as he instantly dropped off to a dreamless sleep.

**The End.**

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**A/n:** I hope someone enjoyed this and as always, reviews very much appreciated. For anyone wondering who I had in mind for Kurogane's first time, it would have to be Sohma. The other ninja in the service of protecting Tomoyo. It seems like something that would happen, just some kids fooling around. Plus I thinks she's really pretty. Jeez, I'm getting off topic. 


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